Rediscovering the Dandelion
by District Mom
Summary: My story started as a short expansion of the last chapter of Suzanne Collins' Mockingjay and my imagined scenario of Peeta and Katniss growing back together.  I had so much fun that it morphed in to more about the two taking it through the epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story to write and edit. I want the thank the many wonderful people at The Hob (a Hunger Games fansite for adults) for inspiring me to write and then encouraging me in publishing. I want to specifically acknowledge two that go by the screen names of Cinna and Katniss Everdeen there who read my story and they are the reason I am publishing it now.**

**All copy rights to the characters are Suzanne Collins. They belong to her and I am just borrowing them to expand on the ending she gave us. This short story is just a little of how I envisioned Peeta and Katniss might have grown back together. Any constructive feedback is appreciated. I am new at this though, so please be respectful in your critiques. Thank you!**

Time begins to take on different meanings. Sometimes it passes without any point of reference when I am in a fog. On these days I tend to stay curled in a quiet place, lost in my misery. On other days I manage to go about a routine in a robotic, mechanical way. On these days time has meaning, but it merely crawls.

It is during one of the fogs that something changes. At some point I had begun to sing again in the midst of my darkness. All the misery, pain and despair is channeled into music, that I hadn't even realized I was making. A sound makes my head turn and I see him, with tears running openly down his cheeks. His eyes are unfocused as if he is viewing his own personal hell and I stop singing without realizing it. The awareness that there is anything besides my dark cave shocks me into silence. I feel myself wake up to my surroundings.

Peeta turns his head slowly to look at me and our eyes meet. He doesn't say anything, just continues to look at me his eyes still wet. After an immeasurable space of time, he turns and walks away without a word. I slowly get up and make my way to the kitchen since I am sure I haven't eaten well in who knows how long. Of course there is bread awaiting me. And of course it is my favorite kind, the cheese buns.

Now I am back in one of my routines. I wake early to seek the woods. I hunt. The reminders of Gale's absence no longer fill me with any emptiness or surprise. It is starting to feel natural that I am alone here. I am making peace with my feelings for Gale.

I realize now that of course I loved Gale. I love and have loved many people that I would never allow myself to admit to before, for fear of loosing them. I loved Madge for her quiet kinship. I love Haymitch though he can still inspire me to feelings of deep anger when he is in one of his darker moods. I loved Finnick and his solid and unrelenting love for Annie. I may even love Delly in a way, for her ability to see the best in everyone, though she also slightly nauseates me on my darker days. I loved Peeta for his goodness, his sureness and the way he loved me so solidly. I stop myself in my tracks. I can not allow myself to delve into what I feel for him now. I am still a little scared to look too deeply there and I am not even sure who he is anymore.

But I am beginning to understand love and that there are many types of it as well as ways of doing it. I am coming to peace with loving Gale. He was a great friend and we needed each other. But he doesn't need me now and I certainly don't need him. With everything that happened we grew apart. And that is ok.

I hope he is happy, but am glad that I don't have to see him. We had been drifting apart long before Prim died. But her death sealed the end of whatever we had. A need for each other, a friendship, both, or possibly even more. I know that I can't love him the way that he would want. Seeing him would only be a constant reminder of Prim anyway. And I would be a reminder to him as well. And I don't think Gale would yet be ready to see me move on even further away from him.

After catching several squirrels, shooting two rabbits and gathering various edible plants, I head home. Greasy Sae is there with her granddaughter but I just drop off my supplies and head over to Peeta's. For some reason I feel compelled to see him. Something feels unfinished from when he listened to me sing last week. I have noticed that he has been less visible since then.

I knock on his door, but there is no response. I only wonder about the politeness of it for about a second before I push open his door anyway. I drift through the house where the ovens are strangely empty and cold. This can only mean one thing.

So I head to his painting room. I find him in front of a painting that instantly pierces my heart with pain. It is layered so that the bottom is filled with violent and dark colors. But as my eyes shift to the top, it transforms into brilliant joyous colors, like an exploding sunset. At the bottom there are flames and one is central. I can feel that this is Prim. But what is extraordinary is that out of the flames of my Prim erupts a beautiful other worldly creature flying up into the brilliance waiting above. And awaiting her are other creatures, all with wings. It is like Peeta took pieces of my dreams and made them into something more beautiful and hopeful.

Peeta is so lost in his painting that he does not notice me. I hesitate trying to decide what to do. Finally I softly call out his name. He turns towards me and his face is alight with strange emotions mingled perhaps with hope.

He instantly puts down his brushes and turns the painting away from my sight. He walks to me and leads me away from the room shutting the door behind me. As he does so he says "Sorry."

I am confused by his response at first and then I realize that he is afraid of what his painting might be making me feel. I surprise myself by pulling him forward into a hug.

"There is no need to apologize. I thought that it was both horrible but then beautiful too." I push my tangled thoughts of Prim away and hold onto him until he relaxes and his arms feel more like his old embraces.

"Real or not real, I used to hold you like this in the middle of the night when you had nightmares?"

"Real" I respond, and after a few moments reply "And I miss it," then immediately try and pull away while I hide my face as my cheeks begin to flame.

He doesn't let go immediately though. When he finally does we walk down the stairs and I feel a little uncomfortable with what just passed. I am not really sure what to say so I invite him to dinner. He accepts, then immediately begins pulling out flour and other baking tools. "I'll supply the bread, obviously." He half smiles at me.

I sit down on a stool in the kitchen and watch him work. He sets me with something simple, dough to knead, which I do mechanically as I continue to watch him. He is so sure here, just like I am so sure in the woods. I get a little lost in watching him in one of his natural environments, at least the one that it is not painful to watch him in. I am not sure that I am ready to watch him paint his feelings into his art at any rate.

And yet, I suddenly remember watching him sketch what seems like a lifetime ago. When we worked on my family's book about plants. His face does not take on that look while baking that it does when he is concentrating on his art. Apparently baking is too easy and natural for him to have to concentrate very hard. But I am becoming so lost on my thoughts and in comparing his facial expressions and features now to the intense looks when he is tightly focused that I am again embarrassed when he catches me so focused on his face.

But his response only shows me how fully there is still that old Peeta inside him. He responds just like he did when he caught me so intently watching him working on the book a year before. "So this makes the second time we've ever done anything normal together."

And I resurrect the ghost of my response as before "Yeah, nice for a change."

This gives me the impetus to bring up an idea that had recently been stirring inside my head. "Peeta," I begin. "Remember my family's book that you helped me with, about the plants?"

"Yes." His eyes take on a slightly hazy look as he remembers.

Feeling thankful that the capitol couldn't touch these memories that they knew nothing of, I go on. "Well, I have been thinking of starting a new book. But I could never do it alone."

"What kind of book did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking about writing of them. Everything that the world lost when they were taken from us." I don't have to explain who "them" is.

"You want me to draw them?" He asks.

"If it wouldn't be too painful for you."

"O.K.," is all he says.

After several weeks, Peeta and I fall into a rhythm. Most days begin with my hunting, his baking. The middle of each belongs to ourselves, usually painting for him, more hunting, attempting to make new bows, or sometimes even wallowing for me. But we often meet up over Greasy Sae's dinners and follow with work on this new book. These sessions on rare occasions go on until near dawn if we get too caught up. Sometimes he watches me write, sometimes I watch him draw. Sometimes we are both too consumed with our work to notice anything else. I begin to find myself wondering at idle times in the woods what he is thinking when he looks at me so quietly. What does he see? What does he think?

I am a little apprehensive of the strange wistfulness that I feel when thinking of this. I still am not sure if I want to explore these feelings. But then again, it sure beats the emptiness I feel when I fleetingly think of those that I have lost. So in the woods I find my mind wondering more and more on the possibilities in Peeta than in the hopelessness that accompanies thoughts of Prim or the others.

One night while I am watching him work I am lulled to sleep by a full belly and warm fire. My dreams quickly turn to violence as they so often do now. Working on the book has brought everything to my mind that I had been trying so solidly to shut out of my consciousness. I am thrashing and screaming myself awake when I feel strong arms cradle me. I slowly come to as Peeta has picked me up and is carrying me to my room. He holds me while sitting on the side of my bed until my heart rate slows and I am calm again. I am becoming fully aware of his closeness when he releases me onto my bed. I feel a sudden terror. I know that the nightmares will come back as soon as my eyes shut. I grab his arm as he begins to pull away and plead with my eyes. He hesitates seeming to be making up his mind. Maybe this is not fair to him but I know I need him to get through this night. I push shame aside and say, however unfairly, "Stay with me".

He replies as I knew he would "Always."

Haymitch must be out of liquor. He joins us one night in an especially foul mood. He smells a little, further reinforcing the idea that he is coming out of his self medicated numbness and being forced to think and feel again.

After dinner Peeta and I retreat to the living room where the supplies for the book are stowed. Haymitch reflexively follows us. At first he seems unaware of what we are working on. Since we are fairly quiet he can not interject any of his irritability on us. Well, me mostly, since I think I sometimes remind him of himself.

He finally stands up to get a look at what has us so consumed. We are working on the pages about one of the morphlings. Peeta and I alternate people we knew the best with those to whom we were not as close, so as not to overwhelm ourselves by the feelings that the book stir in us.

"There was more to her than that," Haymitch mutters behind my shoulder. "At least at one time there was."

I am at a loss for what to say, but of course Peeta sits back and says the right thing. "Then tell us about her so we can put that down too."

Haymitch takes a seat and begins to recount the little of her he knew between his lapses of drunkenness before she was completely lost in her own private morphling world. I realize how much he can add to those we only knew by either old videos or briefly meeting. When he finishes his account I propose the idea that he can help us with the book.

Angry, irrationally so, Haymitch shouts expletives at me. "No! Why do you want to relive all of this anyway?" He is instantly up and out of the door. I look over at Peeta a little confused about what I did wrong. He wraps an arm around my shoulders as he explains.

"I don't think he is far enough out of withdrawal to be able to deal with all the emotions this brings out in him. I promise you he is tearing his house apart right now looking for something to help dull the pain that his memories have brought back."

"But if he gave it a chance he would realize that it really helps." I am feeling a little defensive, possibly from dealing with Haymitch's sarcasm all during dinner.

"I think he might get there, but he might need a few days. Come on, let's call it a night." And Peeta takes my hand drawing me to my room where it is now his habit, once again, to help me through the night with his arms.

Sure enough, Haymitch is back the next night at dinner. Again he follows us to the living room. Again he makes contributions, but immediately after leaves, slightly less flustered than the night before.

The third, fourth nights Haymitch gets up immediately after dinner and heads home. The fifth night he does not even show up for dinner. At first I decide to let him be as nights were the hardest for me as well before the book...and before Peeta stayed the night too I admit finally to myself. After several nights of not showing up I grow a little impatient.

The day I grow tired of Haymitch hiding from us, I head straight to his house after I drop off my take from a day in the woods. He is not in his house so I head off to where he is feeding his geese. He looks a little sheepish as he sees me approach.

"Hey there Katniss, couldn't stay away from my effervescent personality?" He smiles an ironic smile.

"I decided that if I have to act like a grown up, so do you. It is time you faced it Haymitch."

"I don't know what you mean," he responds looking only at the geese.

"Yes you do. You are scared of feeling for them. You are scared of feeling anything with out your liquor to numb you."

"So what if I am," he snaps. "I don't have anyone to hold me all night while I weep in their arms," he cuts back at me. "Do you even care how that makes him feel? Weren't you supposed to be saving him and not making him carry the burden of saving you anymore? Or do you really care about him at all?"

"Peeta is not a child who needs tending," I throw back. But I am frozen from making another retort, left cold from his response. A deep sense of shame fills me, but I also feel defiant. Peeta is essentially an adult after all, and I do know that I care deeply for him. I am just still a little unsure wether it is wise to examine exactly in what ways I care deeply for him. How do I want him in my life? Does he even really want to be in my life? Because I realize that Haymitch is right in that I need to examine this if I care at all about Peeta. And I do my mind screams at Haymitch silently.

I am not sure what to say out loud though, so I stand there awkwardly trying to decide wether to take back up my argument or just walk away. After all, why do I even bother with Haymitch when he is like this?

After a moment Haymitch finally speaks. "Sorry, that was pretty low. I know you haven't yet figured out what to do with Peeta, especially since you don't feel you deserve him."

I think about how neither Haymitch nor I think that I deserve Peeta. Well, the old Peeta. I do not yet fully know who the new Peeta is, though I am pretty sure I do not deserve him either. When I do not respond he continues "Remember that before the last liquor supply you and Peeta were still a little stiff around each other and I just noticed that you both are a little more cozy now. It took me by surprise." After another moment of silence he pops off "Maybe I am a little jealous."

That makes so little sense coming from Haymitch's mouth that I finally look up at him. He has a smile on his face and so I know the jealousy comment is a joke. "Well, if you are into bright hair and a capitol accent I bet we could look up Effie for you."

His smile widens as I add. "You could get lucky. May the odds be _ever_ in your favor." We are both cracking smiles until the comment brings my mind back to the business at hand.

"I am not trying to push you or anything Haymitch, it's just that the book has really helped me with all of this. It isn't a miracle worker, but the days go down a little more easily now," but as I say this I wonder how much is due to the book and how much is due to Peeta's continually increasing presence back into my life.

"Maybe I'll help some, but don't get mad when I don't show up, alright? And don't come hunting me down either, sweetheart. I won't make promises to you any more that I can't keep."

"I won't," I respond as I walk away.

My thoughts turn quickly to the fairness of asking Peeta to spend his nights easing my pain. I don't know what this does to him. I do know that I care about him and that I refuse to rip him up by my own selfish needs.

That night I am quieter than usual when we work on the book. Haymitch drops in but leaves quickly after his contributions. As I am working on my resolve to release Peeta if he needs it, I look up to find him gazing at me, a questioning look on his face. Apparently he asked me about which of his sketches captured Annie the best but I failed to notice.

"Are you ok Katniss?'

"I don't know Peeta, that depends." It is breathtaking how quickly he is at my side, concern etched in his features.

He slips one arm around my shoulders as he asks "Do you want to talk about it?"

Uncertainty grips me as I try to decide how to begin. He lowers his face besides mine and whispers in my ear, "Katniss, I am right here. I want to help you if I can. Is it too much tonight?"

Suddenly I feel how Peeta, my old Peeta, is now so much a part of this new slightly enigmatic Peeta. My response seems to only make him more desperate as tears spring up in my eyes.

He turns his head and softly presses his lips to my cheek. He rests his forehead lightly against the side of my face and murmurs, "I wish I could take the pain away from you, but I can't. Is there anything I can do?"

I pull away from him then and begin, "Peeta, am I asking too much of you?"

"What?" He tries to catch my eyes, but I can't look into those blue eyes. Not yet.

"I have been asking so much of you, you never say what you need from me. You are so solidly there, every night, but is this the right thing for you? I don't want to hurt you. I couldn't stand it if I hurt you." Finally I chance a quick glance to check his expression. His brows are slightly pulled together in a puzzled look.

His voice is soft when he answers me, "Katniss, I am fine. What brought all this on?"

I fumble a little then respond, "Because I do care about you Peeta. Not just for what you can do for me. I want to be able to help you too. I don't want you to stay at night anymore. Well, not if it isn't good for you too."

The silence that follows fills me with dread. When is Peeta ever at a loss for words? This can not be good. I pull my eyes to his face.

He expression is soft as he is looking at me, seemingly lost in thought. Every part of me wants to get up and flee. Feeling vulnerable I start to rise but Peeta grips my hands and finally talks. "No, I need you to stay right here."

I sit back down, tense and uneasy. "Katniss, sleeping beside you is good for me. I now don't have to guess if you are ok, if you are having a bad night, if you are going to be gone into some dark abyss of sadness when I come by the next day."

This is not helping. This is just more about me. "Peeta, that's not what I mean. What about you? What about what you need? Are you able to get on with your life with me monopolizing you? Is this really what you want? To be spending half your time with some fire mutt who just causes everyone pain by association?"

"Yes, it _is_ what I want. I am not going to leave your side until you decide you don't want me here Katniss. I can't promise you that I am whole, after all I am a fire mutt too, much more of a mutt than you. But I came back from the capitol so much more whole than you. I found a release for my darkness and confusion in my painting. I started to deal with it long before you did. I learned who I was again. I haven't yet come to terms with everything," his voice breaks a little as he continues, "I have done. But doing something good...for you...creating beauty through the pain instead of destruction with my hands...well, that is all I can ask of myself right now."

Peeta pauses a moment before adding "I don't need anything from you Katniss." He strokes my cheek and continues, "well, anything that doesn't come from your heart. I care about you...now...well, again."

Without thinking I lean in and softly touch my lips to his. I feel him stiffen only briefly, reflexively, before he sighs and relaxes into my embrace. I breath in his dill and cinnamon smell, taste him and feel how solid he is in my arms. It feels right, and I am so tired of thinking and worrying. I just want to feel something good, something hopeful, and he is it.

Too soon, we return to work. Peeta is pretty intent on finishing his sketch. Perhaps he needs a little more time to work through his tangled feelings for me. I throw myself into my part of the book so I do not have to examine our exchange too much.

Sometime late in the night I am pulled out of a fiery nightmare where I am watching Prim before the bombs drop. I keep trying to scream at her to run, but she only looks at me questioningly as if she can not hear me. I realize that I have no voice to yell to her with. I start miming for her to tuck in her ducktail which is utterly ridiculous as the bombs begin to explode around her. Even as I rouse out of unconsciousness I feel that thick confusion about what is real and what is a dream. Peeta is there with his arms around me soothing my hair back with his hands. But tonight's dream is just too hard. I am shaking in his arms and can not seem to stop. As I sit up, Peeta sits up too, pulling me onto his lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Prim," is all I have to say and he understands that there are no words.

He kisses away stray tears as I struggle to get a grip on myself. He doesn't try to say a thing, knowing that it will be of no use. He pulls me gently against his chest, rocking me softly while humming a song that I realize I had been singing that day he walked in on me so many months ago. It is a tune that wordlessly summarizes the overwhelming grief that the loss of Prim makes me feel. It oddly works a bit of magic to hear my pain captured in the haunting melody. Slowly my tears subside and I begin to lift out of the momentary gloom threatening to overtake me.

"Thank you," I tell him though it feels insubstantial.

"The day I heard you sing that I couldn't pull myself away. I was bringing you bread, though I knew you probably wouldn't eat it as it usually took you several days to pull out of the darkness. I knew you wouldn't notice me and I was trying to be quiet." He looks down at me a little ruefully. "Of course we both know that isn't my strong suit. But I heard you sing that and it was as if all the grief and pain I had ever felt was in that song. I knew you were singing for Prim. All of them, but especially Prim. But I felt my own pain being sung out of me into that melody. I couldn't move from the room."

"I went straight back to my house and over the next week spent whole days on and off painting my feelings onto canvas. And then you showed up thoroughly taking me by surprise. It was the first time you sought me out since we've been back."

"I guess a part of me knew then how much I needed you." I reach tentatively up to stroke his face lightly with my fingers.

Peeta's eyes close at my touch, his breathing quickens. He continues, "I wasn't sure if I could help you, but I knew that I had to come back here and try anyway. If there was a chance you needed me, I had to be here."

"Always," I breath as I press my lips to his. It starts as something tender and unsure. Neither of us knows the direction this will take us or the appropriateness of finding solace in each others arms amidst the memories of those we have loved and lost. But soon we both give in knowing that those whom we loved, who loved us, would not want us locked in misery, never allowing any moments of the sun to shine in our darkened worlds.

As the kiss continues I begin to feel the same yearning hunger. It seeps out just as before, through by body, filling me with a heat and setting me on fire in a new kind of way. This time there is no audience to watch. There is no lightening to distract us. I allow it to lead where it may.

I realize in his embrace that there is a release from the pain. That I can feel happiness, even if it comes fleetingly and leaves just as fickle. I may have needed Gale once but ultimately he was a fire that would have consumed me whole. I could never have found the release of my depression surrounded by anger and with the ever need for retribution.

I need the hope and faith that only Peeta can give me. I feel from the depths of my body how much I want Peeta, need Peeta. And I finally admit to myself how much I love Peeta. And apparently Peeta needs me just as much, wants me. I begin to feel him respond with the same desperate hunger, overwhelming my thoughts as I give into it. There is no doubt that Peeta loves me.

So after, when he whispers "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "real".


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story. I am especially grateful for those of you who left reviews. I have read them all but could not figure out how to respond to them at first so I decided to thank you all here. I will catch on to this website eventually. =) **

**Secondly, I had only meant to write one story. But I had a lot of fun writing it and my mind kept dreaming about the epilogue. I realized I had more in my head. Pauline, from both The Hob and also right here on (check her out here: .net/~njnytwigals ) has encouraged me every step of the way. It was an email from her that made me slow down and not jump ahead to the end. I also finally showed my husband my stories. Thankfully he has been sweet and supportive in his true Peeta-iike fashion. He has helped me immensely with editing this chapter.**

**I will admit that this chapter did not come as easily as the first. I think my mind kept jumping ahead to the next installment. I even had to scrap the direction I was moving for this Chapter and begin again. But I finally managed to capture what I wanted to say. I hope that you enjoy it! Even if you don't I hope you will tune in for the next Chapter. It is already written as it pretty much wrote itself. And I had the most fun ever writing it and I hope it will be equally fun to read! I will post it once it has been sufficiently edited.**

**Thanks again everyone! And of course the characters all belong to Suzanne Collins. I am thankful for her books and do not intend any copyright infringement.**

In the morning I wake up utterly alone. I am alarmed, but then again I do have very vivid dreams. Maybe I dreamed all the events of the night before. The way Peeta and I moved together, how good he felt. They way we seemed to fall right into each other even though neither of us really should have known what we were doing. The way everything felt so natural, so right and also so amazingly good. And finally how it felt to be lost in the afterglow in his arms. I had felt a sense of comfort that I knew could not possibly belong to me. Of course it wasn't real. How could I ever think I deserved it?

As I decide that such dreams are unhealthy, I start to feel the effects of the night on my body. No dream can do that! Fear begins to creep through me like a cold trickle of water. Where is Peeta? How could he leave me here to wake up alone? Did everything that happened between us push him beyond his limits so that in the light of dawn he came to his senses to see the ruined mess of a creature beside him? Did he take the first chance to flee? I call out his name. I am beginning to feel a dull nausea in the pit of my stomach as I curl in on myself.

A soft plodding sound reaches my ears. Seconds later Peeta walks in carrying a sketchbook and pencils. My mind slowly catches up to the fact that Peeta is still very much here, and I hear a sound much like a a cat strangling. I realize that I am gasping for air and breathing much too fast. Peeta freezes for at least a minute after he drops his book. I begin to sob. He seems to be having some kind of flash back but I am scared to go near him and he is momentarily lost to helping me. Finally, as I watch him with tears running down my cheeks his breathing slows and his grip on the desk finally relaxes. Soon after he is at my side.

"Sorry about that! What's wrong? What happened? Did you have another dream?" He runs his hands up and down my arms.

"I, I t-t-thought you were g-gone," I get out in between gasps. Apparently I was more hurt and worried by his absence than I even realized. I can not figure out where all this crazy emotion is coming from and it scares me a little. Part of me wants to fight against this need for Peeta that I have developed. I know just how easily he can disappear from my life and I do not trust in the permanence of anyone.

"I am right here, I will never leave you. Don't you know that by now? Always Katniss! Remember that I am always here for you. Where did you think I would go?"

"I thought maybe you changed your mind. How could you possibly want me when I am so broken? I don't know what I can give to you Peeta. What kind of life can we have? I don't know _how_ to go on and give you what you deserve."

"You have to trust me Katniss. I don't need anything but you, broken or whole. We can rebuild our lives together and help each other get through each day. We'll just take it day by day. It won't always be easy but we can get through it together. We have both lost so much and I'm so tired of it all, everything that has been taken. I am not going to loose you again. I have lost you too many times already."

Peeta tilts my head up and looks into my eyes. "I am so sorry that I was gone when you woke up. I meant to be back here before you ever noticed that I left your side. You were sound asleep last night but I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I have a lot of emotions and images that swirl in my head. I have learned that it helps to sketch things out. I can make sense of everything and tell what is real and what isn't better that way. Plus it helps me deal with my emotions when they get to be overwhelming. I am so sorry that I was not here when you woke up. But please trust me, I will never leave you."

My mind is trying to make sense of what he has told me and why he had out his sketch book. "You were feeling overwhelmed?" My voice sounds small.

Peeta explains, "not in a bad way. Last night just took me by surprise and I had to sort through everything in my head. It's like a paper game of real or not real, but it centers me. It is my way of keeping myself together and sane. Of keeping a grip on myself."

"Are you ok with what happened?" My voice sounds pathetic in my ears as it exposes my need for him.

"Yes, Katniss, yes." Peeta reaches for his sketch book. After flipping though to the right spots he turns around the book for me to see and shows me various pictures he has drawn over what is clearly a fair amount of time.

I am fascinated by what I see. Some of the pictures are images of me from various times through our lives. There I am, young, tiny and clearly singing with wild abandonment. I am standing in a chariot on fire. I am bedraggled and starving, lying dejectedly against an apple tree on the day he threw me burned bread. Then finally is a drawing from last night that I would be embarrassed for my mother to see. I don't quite recognize the face in it as I have never seen myself look like that. So many images drawn, but what really arrests my eyes is the way they were drawn with a definite affection.

"This is how you see me now?" I ask him.

"These are the images I keep. These are the ones that I know are real and some that I really want to remember. Sometimes there are images that I think the capitol has influenced. Those are not quite so nice. But they always have that shiny, surreal quality that is even more clear once I draw them out. It helps to get them out of my head. I burn those." Peeta's voice turns hard at the end.

I rest my head on Peeta's strong, capable shoulder and let the realization fill me that he is still here. He actually wants to be here, and he really is so much the same old Peeta. I stop trying to push against my need for him. I pull my arms up around him and feel his mismatched patchwork of skin beneath my fingers. I trace the patterns his scars make on his back and around to his chest. I look up into his face as I pull him over on top of me on the bed. I decide that the best way to chase the shock and fear of the morning away is to embrace the beauty of the night before. The horrors in the day can wait and claim me later.

Days slip into weeks and then into months. No full day passes in total blissful happiness because pain catches up in the quietest of moments. But I always know there is a pair of arms waiting to embrace me until it passes. I can count on Peeta whenever I fill the darkness seeping back in, he helps me to hold it partially at bay. I start to trust in his continued presence. Apparently I am good for Peeta too. I wait out his flashbacks only watching him as he still worries about his control in that moment. I think I could help him through them but I do not want to push him. But as soon as they are over I am there with my own arms and help to ease him back into reality.

Haymitch even comments on Peeta's improvement during his next period of sobriety. Evidently Peeta never smiled when he first came back from the capitol and his eyes had been tight and wary, his posture rigid. I feel horrible as I had been too consumed with my own grief at the time to notice. But now he is more at peace and his laughter will spill out when the moments are right. I feel a certain pride knowing this effect is one that I helped create. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction when I look up at odd times to catch his watchful gaze and tender smile directed towards me. It often gets in the way of our work on the book as papers get momentarily pushed aside until we can ease our need of each other. We learn to keep doors locked to prevent awkward scenarios.

Peeta is the first to mention the idea of marriage. Somehow it has never crossed my mind as in my heart I consider us as good as. We have overcome all the odds and that is a statement of permanence in itself. Why do I need a piece of paper to tell me that I have committed myself to Peeta? I believe that the outward ceremony is unnecessary because we have privately made all the commitments and ceremonies that a marriage conveys. But I realize that Peeta needs this from me. To know that I am declaring our love to more than just our small community of friends. That no one else has a claim to my heart in this way as one once had. Well, if I had been willing to consider my options back then anyway. So we begin to discuss the possible scenarios, whom to invite, how large to make the ceremony. I prefer a smaller traditional celebration, but Peeta senses a need in the District for something that smacks so vitally of hope and resilience. Leave it to Peeta to consider the needs of the community. Calls begin to pick up from some of those that we knew in our life before.

It is my Mother's call that takes me the most by surprise. We still have not seen each other since I left the capitol. I am still not allowed to leave the district as part of my exile. My Mother has not yet been able to face coming back for a visit and we have thus kept loosely in touch through occasional calls. My Mom knows that I do not need her even still. I guess the time that I could have received solace from my Mother has long past in my childhood and it might be a reminder to us both of her past failings if she tried. Not to mention that my Mom has been unable to face the reminders a visit to the district would provide. So while there is still mild pain in separation it is not one that has been worth attempting to overcome.

Until now, apparently my Mother is ready. She wants to be a part of our celebration no matter the potential for pain. She will deal, she tells me resolutely after a discussion to discover wether I am mentally well enough to make this big of a commitment. Another bonus is the resolution of a conflict that has been twisting inside me. I have refused to consider a dress from Cinna's creations that were designed for my capitol imposed wedding. To wear one of those dresses would be a mockery, as if the capitol finally manipulated our futures into their design. But I do want to feel Cinna's presence and have him be present during this sacred celebration. Somehow I know that he would approve of this union between Peeta and myself. I can not reconcile the two desires. But how to make that happen? My Mom is the one to provide a solution. She has called Annie who offered the dress I loaned her for her wedding. It, too, is one of Cinna's creations. She is even thinking of coming as she feels like she and the baby are up for the trip. My Mom will make the alterations to the dress if needed. So now we will also have Finnick's presence on this day by wearing the dress Annie married him in. Hopefully the joy in the occasion and marking their presence will overcome the pain of loss these reminders will bring.

A week before the wedding, my mother arrives with Annie and her beautiful, vibrant son. He is very striking with his father's sea green eyes and bronzed wisps of hair so it takes Peeta, Haymitch and I by surprise. This small boy must be a strong reminder of her lost husband, it surely brings her much pain along with satisfaction. But she looks surprisingly well considering. She and my Mother have obviously developed a tight bond and appear to lean on each other, my Mom helping to ground Annie to the world around her. I am happy to note that I feel no jealousy in their bond and I am pleased that they have each other to help in the rebuilding of their lives. My Mother seems to be a surrogate for Annie's lost mother. She gets to be needed by someone as well as filling is as the child's surrogate grandmother.

I begin to wonder what kind of grandmother my Mom would be for a kid of mine. I feel a jolt as I realize the dangerous course my mind is taking. Of course I will have no children! What am I thinking? How could I bring anyone into this world who could be tortured and brutalized because of their association with me? But a small voice reminds me that I have always wanted Peeta to have kids. At one time I had even envisioned them. But never did I consider that they might be mine too. I stifle the voice quickly before the nonsense can take any kind of hold. Such thoughts can only lead to brutal ends.

The day before the ceremony I come home from a morning in the woods to find Peeta sitting quiet and alone on the couch. I am pleased to find him here as he has been feverishly busy perfecting the final touches for our cake, hosting our out of District guests as well as attempting to give me a lot of time with my Mom. I have been missing him terribly and so happily curl up against him. It takes me a few minutes to realize that while I am relaxed and happy he is actually tense and anxious.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" I finally notice that he has a letter clasped in his hands.

"This is for you Katniss." His voice is unnaturally even.

"OK, but you didn't tell me what's wrong," I inform him as I reach for the letter.

Peeta takes a deep breath and then explains, "I didn't know how you would feel about inviting Gale to the wedding, especially if he didn't show up. I didn't want it to seem like I was rubbing it in his face either, but I know he is important to you. I finally tracked down his mother and was able to get her opinion. She said she would tell him and let him decide what he wanted to do. But she thought he should at least be told about it."

I am not quite sure what to say. Is Peeta worrying that I might be angry with him for inviting Gale? Surely he is not thinking that this letter could challenge my love or commitment to him. I take the letter and open it. As I do Peeta begins to rise, I try to stop him. "Don't leave. This letter can not change anything."

"Still, I think that it isn't meant for my eyes."

"No Peeta, nothing in this letter matters the way you do. I am not opening this letter if you leave."

"It's ok, Katniss, I would prefer not to be here when you read it. I'll just be in the kitchen anyway." I can't tell if it is my imagination or not but Peeta still seems unsure. His eyes are guarded. I look down at the letter. I figure the best thing to do is go ahead and just read it.

_Katniss,_

_I don't really know what to say. Congratulations I guess. I hope that you are happy. You deserve to be. But I am not going to come to your wedding. I don't think you or Peeta would really want me there. I would be really uncomfortable anyway. I don't think I want to see you at your wedding on another man's arm. I don't need that image burned into my brain. Don't get me wrong, I do want you to be happy. And for the record I am moving on too. I have met someone here who works with me. She is a great woman. I know you would approve and want me to be happy too. But if we ever get married please don't expect an invitation. It wouldn't be fair to her. It wouldn't be fair to either you or I either. Our lives are moving on._

_My Mom sends her best. I hope you don't mind but she is coming. She and I decided that she would be a good stand in for me and a way to honor the friendship we had. Plus my Mom still cares about you very much. Posy is always asking her when she can visit so I hope you will accept their presence in place of mine. Sorry that this is the best I can do for you. But I guess my days of being able to give you what you need are over and now it is another man's turn. At least I know that you are in decent hands since he would die for you too. _

_I wish you all the best Katniss. Really I do. Now go live your life!_

_Gale _

I sit there for a moment before picking up a paper and pen. As I continue to sit there I can think of nothing to write. I have never been able to express myself like this with pen and paper marking down all the "right" words. I am pleased that he has found someone too. I am also glad that I have absolutely no feelings of regret or jealousy. I guess when you have as much history as we did you never can predict how something like this will make you feel, even when you have made peace with the parting. Anything I write will feel like some lame consolation and Gale would hate that. Peeta is the one who would know the right things to say. Peeta, who is alone and worried, waiting on my reaction right now. I decide that Gale is not my priority so I'll just simply send my best through Hazelle. It will have to be enough.

I get up and walk to the kitchen. Peeta is standing in front of the sink, staring blindly out across the yard. He does not seem to have done a thing in his time in the kitchen as there is no evidence anywhere of his having worked there. His back is to me but he must hear me enter because he says, "Haymitch is fairly sober and out with his Geese. I know he isn't out of liquor. Maybe he's trying to give us a sort of gift. If he is dry he isn't likely to do anything ridiculous at our dinner, like vomiting over the cake."

Peeta has a point. Haymitch did do just that and vomited all over a dinner Greasy Sae had made about a month ago. But he isn't looking at me and he still seems unnaturally still. I walk to him and press my body into his back as I slide my arms around him. I hold him tightly until I feel him relax a little in my arms. He eventually pulls himself out of my vice grip and turns around. But as soon as he is facing me he pulls me forward back into a tight hug. He feels so good and solid that I even sigh softly.

"I know that I haven't always been the steady rock for you that you have been for me. The Capitol didn't have to touch your memories to have you see that," I begin.

Peeta interrupts, "Not always Katniss, I did fail you."

"Only because you were hijacked," I feel him wince. "But you came back to me as soon as you could. But the point is Peeta, that I guess I understand a little of why you would doubt me. Doubt how I love you and will always be by your side. Nobody can change that. Please believe me." I hate the note of pleading that is starting to creep into my tone.

Before I can go on he cuts me off again. "I don't doubt you, I doubt me. Am I really everything that you need? I love you enough, and I know that I will always be here for you, but am I really what you want? Who you would have chosen if you were truly given a choice?"

"It is always so clear in hindsight. It was always going to end up being you. I tried to fight it. I didn't want to be with anyone, actually, for a long time. I didn't want to give the capitol any more power to hurt the people I cared about beyond what they already had. But they figured it out before I did. Even Finnick figured it out. It would always have ended up being you. You are who I need. And I did make a choice for the record."

Peeta kisses the top of my head. "Really?" He still sounds unsure.

"Really. I guess I'll just have to live my choice for you and then maybe, eventually, you can believe me." I hear the hurt in my voice. I know why he might doubt me but it is still painful.

"Ahhhhhhh, I'm sorry! I do know you love me, I'm sorry I am being ridiculous. Maybe it's all the anticipation and nerves."

Confused I ask, "Are you nervous?"

"Not nervous about being with you, I just want to make everything perfect. You deserve the best and I want to be able to give that to you. And I want this to be what you want."

"It already is perfect, I am with you. Which _is_ what I want." And I lift my face to his and kiss him with all the desire I can show him. We both jump apart as my Mom walks through the back door.

He gives me a small coy smile as he whispers "Oh well, tomorrow then."

Peeta has been staying nights at his house with my Mom here. I think it is wholly unnecessary and It has been a long week. But I suspect that she might not understand our complex relationship and neither Peeta nor I want to upset her. Annie follows with her small son in tow. Peeta scoops up the little toddler and his happy giggles start before they even begin the game they have obviously been playing all week.

"Alright little bag of flour, let's hoist you up and we'll go feed some geese." Delighted giggles follow from their departure out of the house. I am absorbed watching them cross over to Hatmitch's. Peeta really would make a great father, he is a natural. My mind begins to wander, thinking about Peeta as a Dad.

My Mom is watching the two of them closely as well but then turns to me with a sly smile. "He certainly is good with kids." The eyes she turns on me are a little too knowing.

"Too bad we'll never have any," I say in a clipped tone as we prepare for the final try-on of my wedding dress. It makes me angry that the capitol will win one more battle and Peeta will never be a father. Only because he is marrying me and I think about all that he will loose by being with me. My mother does not push me, which is wise as my mood has shifted darkly.

The next day begins much sooner than it should. My dreams without Peeta beside me at night have continued to take on a bleaker tone and I wake up from horrible images repeatedly through the night. I wonder how Peeta is doing at night without me? Does he miss my presence as much as I miss his? Is he sketching the nightmares of me from the capitol or the memories of the nights and days we share together? Oh well, we will be back together tonight and never have to be separated again.

As I walk down the stairs I hear my Mother bustling around the kitchen. She has prepared breakfast and places a plate in front of me as I sit down. Normally I would be off to the woods by now, so it feels a little strange to be hanging around the house with so little to do. I draw a warm bath and soak in it while breathing in the soothing smell of the oils my Mother brought me. I am determined to keep my thoughts on happier things today despite the excess of free time. After I get out of the tub and wrap myself in my towel, she is again there to help me get ready. No Beauty Base Zero is possible with my skin so mutilated, but my Mother does her best and then weaves my hair in to some fantastic design. Luckily the dress hides the most gruesome evidence of the fire's destruction on my body.

Before long I am at the new Mayor's house. Gale's old crew mate Thom has won the position. He was so vital to the rebuilding and restructuring that he reluctantly accepted the requests of the district for him to enter the election. No one even ran against him when it was held.

Peeta looks amazing and seems to glow with happiness. We sign the papers before a crowd, which I try to ignore. Immediately after everyone digs in to a feast. I am touched by how many people have brought their finest dishes to share. I realize that the district really did need something like this to celebrate. Everyone is impressed with Peeta's breathtaking cake. It is a work of art, covered in designs of flowers and plants from my family's book that we worked on what seems like forever ago. I sense it is full of symbolism. But I am too caught up in the night to slow down enough to look at each one and so try to remind myself to ask Peeta about it later. I find the replicated dandelions ringing the bottom of the cake as if laced together, which is the only request I made for the wedding. And then the music starts and everyone begins to dance. I remember Prim and imagine her smiling at us from wherever she is. I hold her image tight to my heart as I begin to dance. Embracing the shared hope in the air, the festivities actually pass very quickly.

"Are you ready to go home?" Peeta's face radiates joy as he awaits my response.

"Yes, that would be great," I tell him.

We gather up our family and closest friends and head home. There everyone claps and cheers as he carries me over the threshold of our house, mine originally. We build a small fire and toast the bread. Everyone trickles away. Gale's family leaves with Greasy Sae. Haymitch follows soon after. My Mom, Annie and her son retire to Peeta's former house. We are finally alone, I grab Peeta's hand and look up into his eyes. His bright smile still lights up his face. I am so full of emotion but I simply say, "I love you _Mr_. Mellark."

"And I love you Mrs. Mellark, always."

He encircles me in his arms pulling me close. As I lay my head on his chest I know that this is where I belong.

**I hope that you have enjoyed the chapter. I would love to hear your feedback! I will have the next chapter up soon. I know that some of you might not like Gale's letter or that he did not come to the wedding. Heck, some of you won't like Katniss' reaction. But I had to stay true to how I envision the characters and what they would do in that imaginary world in my head.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Once again I want to thank everyone for reading my story. I really appreciate all of you, but especially those who take the time to leave feedback. This might be a brand new hobby for me but I would like to improve and knowing what works well and what doesn't is very helpful. I still want to acknowledge Pauline as this story would not exist without her. She has been a constant source of encouragement. My husband is helping to edit, but I think his ulterior motive is for me to write a book one day so he can quit his job (just kidding). **

**I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. It truly did write itself. My hope is that it is just as much fun to read. The next two chapters are written and awaiting further editing then they will be posted. And as always, the characters belong to Suzanne Collins. I am very thankful that she shared them with us all through her books.**

The light ray that breaks through the canopy of trees is so bright that it hurts my eyes. I am sitting beside the lake where my father taught me to swim. The cabin is in sight. The most beautiful child splashes at the edge of the water. Peeta's blond curls fall in her eyes. My older son splashes up with Katniss roots gripped in his fist. His grey seam eyes are alight with triumph. I am feeling a little sleepy from the heat of the day, but I rouse up to give the necessary accolades.

"Daddy will be so proud that you are brave enough to dive now!"

He flashes a joyous smile. He loves to make his father proud. I begin to fight the sleepiness as I need to stay on guard against any potential danger. I am jolted by a sound in the cottage. My heart rate picks up, I am instantly on my feet.

"Stay up," I order my son "and watch your sister."

My bow is trained on the door to the cabin and I am ready to release my arrow. But I am momentarily frozen. It is my father who walks out to me, a smile stretched across his face. He has never aged from my childhood and so is roughly the same age as I am now. He walks to me and my children.

My daughter runs to him with her arms wide. My father catches her in a tight hug while she drips water all over him. "You and Peeta are doing such a fine job with them. You are both very good parents to my grand babies. And I can't wait to see who they grow into."

"Thanks Dad." I guess my son is not the only one who likes to please their Dad. I feel pretty proud myself. But of course how could any child of Peeta's not be incredible?

I look up to tell him how nice it is to see him but he is gone. I look around and my kids have vanished too. I race through the woods looking for them but they are nowhere. They are lost and I feel the scream rising in my throat. They can't be gone. I have to find them.

"Katniss,...Katniss, wake up!"

I choke off the scream. I sit up but am confused by the darkness. It was just so bright moments ago.

"You're shaking," Peeta pulls me into his strong arms. "It's just a nightmare, but it's not real. You are right here in bed with me. And I won't let anything hurt you."

I still have some of my old nightmares from so long ago, but they are fewer and farther between now.

"No Peeta, it wasn't a nightmare. Or most of it anyway, it was that dream. Or..., maybe it was a nightmare."

He gives me a sympathetic smile and holds me tight. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," I whisper. I have had dreams like this for so many years now. At first I would not even tell Peeta about them. Our child or children depending on the dream, in which I see us reflected back in their faces, have been visiting me increasingly at night. They are so beautiful, sweet and perfect that it is painful to see them. I know that they can never be. My loving husband would be an incredible dad for them but he will never get to meet them the way I do. I think it is actually much worse that I do meet them only to be separated when the dreams end. I am unable to forget during the day how they felt in my arms in the night.

"Not talking about it hasn't been helping so...um,...maybe you should." His voice is soft and sincere. "Katniss, have you thought at all about what I have been saying?"

My heart wrenches, Peeta is always so optimistic. He wants me to consider making these dreams a reality. He thinks my subconscious is trying to tell me that I want, even need children. I suspect that he is right though I will never admit it to him. He is certain that the many years of quietness and peace mean that the horrors are truly over. But how can I believe that? I know what people are capable of. Do I really want to subject the amazing creatures of my dreams to this world?

"Yes, but...," my throat constricts before I can get anything else out. My eyes prickle as tears threaten to spill.

"You will be such a good mom Katniss. I know you will." Peeta senses that my resolve is weaker and thus continues. "Imagine getting to hold them for real. You can take them into the woods with you, teach them to shoot an arrow, I can teach them to bake and paint. Think of their hugs and kisses, the laughter. They will be amazing, I just know it! With you as their Mom how can they not be? But you have to trust me. They _will_ be safe. I would never dream of having a child if I didn't believe that. And I would never let anything hurt them or you. Ever! You have to have faith Katniss."

I know that Peeta wants kids badly, has wanted kids for a long time though he rarely brings it up. Well, rarely until I admitted my dreams to him finally and he began to believe that I wanted them too. And I do, but the risk is just not one I can take.

But I sit there anyway foolishly imagining holding one of these children. I think about what they would feel like, their baby soft skin and that special infant smell. I imagine their laughter. I think about tucking them in at night. A vision violently slams into the happy little bubble I've created. It is of me tucking in Prim. I remember the feel of her hugs, time has been unable to blunt this. The vision gives me the resolve I need.

"No Peeta, I can't. I could never handle it if anything happened to them." The tears have finally managed to spill. They drip down my face onto Peeta's bare chest. I don't even try to wipe them away.

Peeta sighs but holds me tight with one arm as he strokes my back with his free hand.

The next day in the woods I can't get the stupid vision out of my head. I came to the woods to escape it and yet the children are all I see. I even think I hear them until I remember that I am not very far into the woods today and the school is close enough for voices to carry on the crisp air. The kids are likely taking their activities classes outside with the weather so nice.

I attempt to force my mind to other things. I remind myself that I am supposed to stop by the older kids' classes the next week every afternoon. Peeta teaches wrestling to the school age children. I suspect he hopes that working with kids will help alleviate his yearn to have one. He eventually convinced me to help teach archery to the older kids during activities. Not many of them take to it as it is not very helpful for anyone's survival anymore. Food and meat are plentiful with trade between the districts being so brisk. Our medicine is always in need by everyone so we no longer have the sunken eyes of the starving walking amongst us. Despite the lack of need every once in a while a kid will really show a natural ability. I promise to teach them to hunt if they show enough interest. Only one kid has ever taken me up on the offer and it was a twelve year old boy who could never be quiet enough in the woods to be any good. I wonder if Peeta's sons or daughters would inherent his noisiness? I feel the corners of my lips pull into a smile as I imagine one of our children with my prowess with the bow and his lack of silence in the woods. I would not care if they did scare off all the animals. We don't actually depend on my hunting and it would still be fun to bring them here. Besides, I bet if I take them out when they are young I could teach them stealth. I want to smack myself in the head. I did it again and have brought myself back full circle thinking about our potential kids.

Since I am already not in the best mood I decide to abort my hunt and check on Haymitch. If he is ill tempered it might even distract me. Maybe I can annoy him into being sufficiently foul to keep my mind distracted from thinking about our imaginary children.

I find him sitting on his front porch watching my approach. He is not sober but he is not completely wasted this early in the day. Darn, perhaps I should have timed this for a little later. He would be good and surly then. "What a lovely surprise." His voice drips with sarcasm. Maybe I did come at the right time after all.

"I take it you don't want company?" I ask him as I plop down in the chair beside him with an evil grin plastered across my face.

"Your ok, but I'd rather you be Brady with the bag of geese feed I already paid him for. Oh, uh, maybe I forgot to pay him." Haymitch's brows nit as he tries to remember. "Ah, hell! I guess I didn't pay him, that's why he isn't here yet. I don't suppose you'd make yourself useful and go pick up a bag for me?"

"And miss your company Haymitch? Why don't I just call him for you?"

"Whatever," Haymitch grumbles.

I walk into his house relieved that the smell is not bad. Thankfully he allows Greasy Sae to stop by now and again. She occasionally does a bit of cleaning for him when she drops off food. Peeta and I had hated to loose her but we knew we didn't really need her anymore. We encouraged her to open a lunch counter in the shop area and Peeta keeps her supplied with baked goods and I with game and wild vegetation. She could get these things in the shops but she prefers to trade with us. We often bring home her cooking for dinner but mostly we trade to keep Haymitch reasonably well fed. Thank goodness for that or he would be severely malnourished because he would try to drink all his daily calories. I marvel at how he has managed to live this long but then figure he probably has pickled himself with his alcohol.

I make the call promising payment upon delivery and return to Haymitch. "So, anything new?"

He turns his head to me and replies "same old, same old. And you?"

I am sure that he is likely to share my cynical view of the world. I need him to strengthen my resolve against having kids that has begun to crack. "Haymitch, do you think our country has really changed? I mean look how many people are foolishly having kids. What are they thinking?"

He gazes at me for several long seconds. It feels as if I am being x-rayed which I do not much like. Finally he says "I don't know, but it's been pretty quiet. I actually think that maybe things have changed."

This is not what I need to hear right now. I press on "but don't you think that with our stupid violent human nature it is just a matter of time before we get ourselves right back into some kind of mess? Can you imagine actually bringing a child into it too? I can't believe how many people are having kids now. Everyone has lost their minds! Or maybe the population explosion is due to an aphrodisiac being put in our water." I wag my eyebrows up and down to show that I am not serious about the water. "Well, that actually does sound like something a government in need of more citizens might do to its people," I say finally. Yes, government conspiracies are perfect to contemplate right now. Just the kind of thing to bolster my will.

Haymitch sounds weary when he eventually replies, "Actually...,I sometimes do wish that I had had kids. That my girl would be at my side and she could have shared a life with me enjoying this time of peace. I can't say how long it will last, but probably my lifetime at least. I could find company in a family rather than the bottom of a bottle." He looks down at the bottle he has just drawn from as if it contains this lost family. He eventually adds "right now I would be visited by grandkids instead of pesky neighbors." His mouth twitches up slightly.

I can not imagine Haymitch as a grandfather much less a father to children. But maybe he would be a different man if he did have them. I don't know, but I am feeling frustrated and even less sure.

If I had children would it change me? Would it be a good change? Is Haymitch a mirror to my future? If anything happened to Peeta then I know that is true. I would probably drown myself in alcohol as well. Could I risk it, or a better question is can I bet on my kid's lives? Both of us sit silently on the porch waiting on Brady, lost in our own thoughts. Finally I grab the bottle from beside Haymitch and take a deep swig. My head is swirling and I hope to make myself stop thinking enough to go through with the dangerous course my mind is starting down. But I have to act quickly before I loose my nerve. Haymitch stays lost in his thoughts and ignores me. When I feel sufficiently numb I jump up to head home. He barks out a laugh and mutters under his breath something that I don't catch except for the words "disaster,...Peeta," and "good luck".

I walk through the door and find Peeta. He is in the middle of icing cookies but I all but attack him, ripping off his shirt and pulling at his pants. He looks at me like I have lost my mind and I guess it is a little strange that I am home rather than in the woods while also forcing myself on him at this time of day.

"Uh, Katniss..."

I put my hand over his mouth as I continue my clumsy seduction. Hmmm, I guess the alcohol is impacting my abilities because I list a little to the side when I try to push my body up against his. He doesn't seem to notice though since my hands are very busy with him. Despite my clumsiness Peeta begins to give in and respond. I virtually slam him onto the floor and am about to climb on top of him when he seems to regain some thinking ability.

"Don't you want to get the diaphragm?"

"No, Peeta, I don't." I make sure to enunciate each word clearly.

He looks a little perplexed as I begin to lower myself onto him. But a hopeful look appears on his face. As I begin to kiss him deeply he tenses and rolls himself out from under me. "You have been drinking!"

"So?" I challenge him. I try to pull his body back towards mine but he is immobile like stone. I almost laugh as I slide my hands down his hard chest and stomach. I am not really sure what is funny but a giggle escapes none the less.

"So, what are you doing Katniss?" He is beginning to sound stern. Killjoy.

"We are going to make a baby Peeta." Gosh it seems kind of obvious to me. And my head is starting to spin so it should be obvious to him as he still has his full cognitive functions.

He sits up in an instant. His eyes are tight and he looks disapproving. It is kind of hard to think at the moment but didn't he want to try to have a baby too? What is he so upset about? My mind tries to come up with the problem through the growing fog in my brain. I try to casually slide myself closer to him in a lame attempt at further seduction. My hands start to crawl across his body. Mmmmmmm, he really is just as delicious after all these years. A reckless sense of abandonment fills me as my body yearns for his. Did I just growl?

Damn it, he manages to pick me up and turn me around so that I am facing in front of him, with my back to him but pulled against his chest. I am momentarily confused but think maybe Peeta wants a different position. Maybe he wants to mix it up? But he doesn't seem very excited now so I try to make sense of that. I attempt to reach him behind me thinking he needs a little more stimulation but he grabs my arms across my body and wraps his around me in a cage. Ugh, alright, not sure what this is about or how it will work, but whatever he wants.

"This isn't right, this isn't how it's done." Peeta's voice is a whisper in my ear.

"Um, I'm pretty sure that it is Peeta. I know how babies are made and I think we're doing ok here." Another giggle escapes me. "Ok, not now, but we started off just fine." I begin to twist in his grip so that I can face him. Perhaps I can still resurrect this mess into a victory.

I am pulled up short by his face. His beautiful blue eyes are forlorn and wet with unshed tears. It looks as if his heart is breaking and he just looks at me with his mouth slightly open. My confusion is worse so I say "I thought that you wanted this."

"Not like this I don't. You are my number one priority, you are my heart and soul. If you have to get drunk to convince yourself to get pregnant Katniss then I have _really_ screwed up. I have put too much pressure on you to do something that you clearly are not ready to do, but apparently believe you have to give me. That isn't right. And I love you too much for that. I don't want it like this. I don't need it. I just need you."

Finally things begin to click in my brain. My plan doesn't seem so bright now. How do I explain myself and make him understand?

"But I do want it Peeta. I want them as much as you do."

"No you don't or you wouldn't have to drink to be able to go through with it." Peeta's voice is anguished.

"You don't understand, I _do_ want them. I dream about them all the time. I see them nearly every night now. I want to know them for real. I don't want to keep loosing them every time I wake up."

"Then why do you have to get drunk just to get through conceiving them," He challenges.

"Because I'm a coward! Because I can't get the idea out of my head that someone might hurt them or use them against us just because of who we are and what we have done. I want them but I am scared to have them. And I want to trust that they'll be alright. I think that once they are here it will be easier for me." The alcohol makes every swing of emotion so much more intense.

"I still don't want them unless we go about it the right way. I want them created out of our love, with both of us fully aware and cognizant of what we are doing. If you aren't ready for that then we need to wait."

Peeta pulls me into a stand and hugs me. I mumble into his chest, "what if I can't get over being scared?"

"Then we'll wait forever Katniss, but it will be right or not at all." Damn Peeta and his noble ideas. It would be so much easier this way.

* * *

"Yeah Mom, love you too. Goodbye." I hang up the phone.

Peeta is there smiling at me. "She says to send you her love. She says everyone there is doing well. Annie's son is really tall now."

"So are you ready?" He asks me.

"I think I have everything." I pick up my pack. "And you?"

"Yep." Peeta takes my hand as he slings his much heavier pack onto his back. He would grab mine too but he knows it would be a wasted effort. I can handle it just fine thank you very much.

We slip around the meadow and into the woods. Peeta crashes through the undergrowth but it does not matter. I am not in here to hunt. Instead we are heading to the cottage by my father's lake. It has become our tradition to spend a day together out in the woods every year once winter is completely over and it is warm. It is my way of sharing my private world here with him, to include him in this part of my life. Besides, I have more to share with him today. Something that goes beyond our tradition.

It takes a while to reach the lake but it is worth the trip. It is so pretty with everything bursting to life now that spring has arrived in full. I set down my pack against the cottage and pull out a quilt. We sit down together and I cuddle close to him. I feel a little nervous about what I have set out to accomplish today. But I let myself get lost in our conversation and the scenery. I know this area is private as I am still the only one of our district willing to go into the woods this far.

After a bit we spread out our lunch. Peeta has spared no expense for what he has prepared. I listen to the mockingjays as we finish. I sing them some of the songs my Dad taught me as a child. I always feel closest to him here so they come more easily than usual. When I am done I turn to see Peeta smiling fondly at me. "Thanks," he says, "that was just as beautiful as ever."

After a while I stand. I strip down to my bare skin and turn to look at Peeta. I back slowly into the lake keeping my eyes trained on him. After he undresses he follows me in. He is still not comfortable in the water like I am. I splash him and swim away as I know he will only go out to about waist height in the water. He starts to splash me back so I dive under the surface. I swim low to the bottom letting the cold water wash over my bare skin. I grab onto his good calf and he jumps a little. I feel him shudder as I brush my hands softly up his legs. First I slide them along his inner thighs then up over his hips, following with his stomach and lastly along his chest and I end standing up in front of him with my hands on his shoulders. I feel a little giddy and nervous about what I am going to do later. I start to move into him as if for a kiss but I suddenly throw myself back into the water splashing him again as I move.

"You little cheat!" He yells, laughing. He starts to follow splashing me as he moves toward me, but I dive again.

I pull up to his ankles again and retrace my prior movements along his body. When I am standing in front of him once more he smiles impishly and says "I think it is worth it to let you win if you keep playing dirty like this."

"Come on, I am going to give you some more swimming lessons."

Peeta gives me a mock disappointed look. "And that's what you wanted to surprise me with today? Stinking swimming lessons? Bummer!"

Over the years I have attempted to teach Peeta how to swim. He can do ok, he probably wouldn't drown at any rate. But he never has really gotten used to the water. I normally only put him through it once or twice a year but he never complains. Well, he doesn't complain much at least. I do not think that he would complain no matter what I asked him to do. Unless it was to conceive a baby while I am intoxicated. But that was years ago and I think I finally understand his position now.

I put him through the paces. I even make him dive under the water a few times, but it is more to watch his cute butt flip up to the top of the water. After the last attempt he catches me smirking and becomes suspicious.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No I am admiring you. You have quite a nice hind quarters Mr. Mellark."

"Hmmm, why don't I believe you? Oh yeah, because your face wears the devil's smile betraying you."

"Who me?" I pull him towards me and kiss him. But before we can get too carried away I begin to drag him back to the dry ground.

I flop down on the quilt spreading out for the sun to dry my body. Peeta stands there at first trying to guess my mood and what I want. He doesn't seem to know exactly what I am looking for so he lies down at my side, content to let me lead. This is good because I am working my way up. I take his hand in mine as I continue to warm myself.

I take a deep breath holding after I inhale, then slowly blow out. Someone long ago taught me this calming trick but I can't remember who. I turn and look at Peeta until he looks back. I hold his gaze while I begin.

"Peeta, I am ready."

"For?" He looks baffled.

"I am ready to try and create a child with you. I am ready to trust in this world. Well, not in this world, but I am ready to trust in you. In us being able to keep this child safe."

A look of concern crosses his features. "Are you sure Katniss, _really_ sure?"

"Yes, I really am." My voice sounds very calm.

A slow cautious smile spreads across his face and he cups his hand to my cheek. He presses his other hand tenderly against my other cheek holding my face between his hands. "Ok Katniss, but it is alright if you change your mind you know. No getting upset this time if you can't go through. If there is even a chance that you will get upset, let's wait."

Peeta has reason to be concerned. After the disastrous drunken seduction attempt I tried periodically over the remaining year to go though with making a baby. But at some point fear would overcome me and I would shut down. Peeta was so good about making me feel better but after many months of failed attempts I began to get increasingly depressed. He finally put his foot down and refused to try any more. I was simultaneously relieved and saddened.

So when I started feeling like I might be able to go through with it, I waited. A lot of time passed but still I waited until I believed I truly could. Then I practiced, pretending that I was trying for a child when we would make love. Of course I knew realistically that we were protected from such a thing but I begin to try and convince myself that it could fail, that I might right in that moment be creating another life. I begin to feel braver and braver, which also coincided with my disappointment when of course the diaphragm did not fail. But I knew I had to be able to follow through the next time I _really_ tried with Peeta or he might never want to try again. He would refuse to have me go through it.

"I promise not to get upset if I can't follow through. But Peeta, I can do this. I really am ready. I think I have been for sometime but I wanted to be sure before I caused either of us more pain. I'm not saying I am not scared. I always will be at least a little scared and I don't think that will ever change. But I really want to make a life with you. To see you reflected in a child I helped create. I can't think of anything more profound and beautiful than that."

Peeta softly traces my face with his fingers until I pull him forward against my lips. I never waiver once in my resolve. My hands do not even shake as I stroke and touch my husband. When he finally seems to believe me that I am ready he relaxes and gives in to me. And we set out to create life.

Peeta cradles me in his arms for a long time afterwards. Both of us are dreaming about what might be happening inside my body at that moment. He brushes his fingers ever so lightly along my stomach up and down with the most gentle wondering smile on his face. After a while it begins to drive me a little crazy so I tell him "you know, one time rarely does the trick." I start to think about how true that is. "It could take so many times. Maybe months. What if it never happens?"

"I think the trying will be fun so that doesn't really concern me." He gives me a wicked smile as he moves his light touch to my inner thighs. "But if it doesn't happen then that's the way it was meant to be. I am not going to worry about it."

"Do you think we should try again?" I ask, he really is driving me wild with his teasing touch.

"As many times as it takes." Peeta pulls me to him and his hands descend on my body.

**So, what do you think? Did you like this chapter? I would love your feedback about what your favorites parts of it are versus what parts need work. Any suggestions? This will help me know for the future what I need to improve in my writing but also what works. Writing about Katniss while she was intoxicated was interesting because some of that careful control over herself slips. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to all of you who are still reading my story. Those of you who have taken the time to comment have really encouraged me in my writing. I am so new to this and hopefully I will continue to improve. Here is the next installment. Of course once again Pauline and my husband have both previewed the chapter to make sure that is was ready to post. Thanks again, I should just leave that as a permanent thanks! The next chapter is already written and mostly edited. I will likely post it tomorrow. Suzanne Collins owns these characters. I just borrowed them for a little while.**

I make sure that I am very busy at all times when I am alone. I refuse to allow fear to catch up to me. My nights are plenty full between Peeta and sleep. Rather than hunt and gather in my precious woods where my mind has an excess of idle time, I turn instead to making bows. It has taken me a long time, but I finally believe my bows are up to the quality of my Dad's. I feel a camaraderie with Peeta in the artistry of it. I think I now more fully understand the world he slips into when he is creating something with his hands. But it was not until I found this artistry in making my bows that I could remotely compare any I made to my father's. And now I gladly turn myself over to them, loosing much of my ability for conscious thought.

As the month winds down I can feel the tension build inside me. Peeta reminds me daily that these things rarely go so easily. That I should not expect in one month to be pregnant. Logically I know this, but for some stupid reason a part of me believes if it does not happen now, that this is a bad omen. That maybe we should stop. I don't know if I can continue to try so confidently if takes longer than this month. While the saner part of me knows that I am being unrealistic, I can't help but feel a certain judgment coming down as I await for my cycle to begin. And now I am late. Not a lot, so we have not been sure what it means and I have not been willing to hope.

Peeta and I finish our dinner with Haymitch. He still likes to pop over, especially during his sober periods. Perhaps he is lonely. Or perhaps we are to him what my bows are to me. A way to keep his thoughts from turning to darkness. At any rate, Haymitch is family to us so he is usually welcome to join our dinners. I am so tired now though that I can hardly keep a train of thought going for any kind of decent conversation. "You guys are sure boring tonight." His rough bark of a laugh makes me jump a little.

Peeta reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder as if he senses my edginess. "I think we're just tired. I know I am, I haven't been getting as much sleep as usual lately." He subtly turns his head and the corner of his mouth turns up in a smile as he gives me a quick wink.

"Oh, that's ok. I was about to go back home anyway. Thanks for dinner." And he leaves after a short while longer, without a single sarcastic comment.

"Let's head up Katniss, I really am tired, and you look like you could use a good night's sleep as well. I think we can take a night off since...well, it probably won't matter much."

"Peeta, I started cramping today. Or a weird pain anyway."

"Can I get you anything? Do you want a warm water bottle?"

"You know what that means, huh? That I am about to start. That it was a false alarm. My breasts have been really sore too. I also feel like my emotions are a little raw. Basically I feel everything that I normally feel right before I start but I am so much more aware of it. Because it seems like it is magnified ten fold." I feel like my body is mocking me, giving me some kind of intensified effects from my impending menstruation. I wonder again if this is a sign of judgement against us.

Peeta pulls my chin up until I am looking in his eyes and says "Katniss, we knew it probably wasn't going to happen in a month. It would be unrealistic to have expected it. Please don't be disappointed." He kisses my forehead.

I crawl into bed beside him, certain that in the morning I will be greeted with red. But I awaken clean and unsoiled. Not even a hint. Great, now it will be another count down for the day. I run through my head for any possibility of things that might occupy my mind.

That night I still have not begun, but the soreness is still present and the emotions are running very high. I am also more tired than usual. I am so thankful for Peeta, who does not ask questions but just keeps me wrapped in his arms until I manage to fall asleep. But again in the morning I am clean. This is maddening! Is this some kind of sadistic joke? I feel like someone waiting for the axe to fall on their execution.

The next day Peeta gets ready to head to the shops to pick up our needs for the next few days. In making his list he asks me about my menstrual supplies. When I tell him I am stocked for several days he turns a quizzical face to me. "Are you sure? You have enough to make it through the week?"

"Well, I haven't exactly needed anything yet have I?"

"Haven't you? I thought you said you started." Peeta looks a little funny.

"No, I just know I am going to start."

"How long have you felt like that? How late are you?"

"I've felt like this for around a week. But I haven't started. I don't know, I guess I am around two weeks late? Must be the stress." I hold back the frustration. I do not want him to think that he can not leave me alone. I don't think I am very rational at the moment but I do not want him to know it. I am still secretly convinced that some force is punishing me. That I am being teased with all these PMS symptoms.

"Are you alright Katniss?" Peeta looks deep into my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lie. "I just feel a little cranky with the screwy hormones you know?"

"Oh, ok. Well, I'll be back soon." Peeta's touches me lightly on the cheek but his face still has a funny expression. Maybe he thinks I am cracking up. What if he does not want to try anymore because I am reacting kind of crazily to not being pregnant? I need to pull it together because I think he can read my mind a little.

I bide my time attempting to clean the house bit by bit but the chemical fumes nauseate me. I remember that I did not eat breakfast and realize that was probably a bad move. I head to the kitchen to rectify it. Absolutely nothing appeals to me. I finally force down some ginger and bread thing. It is the only thing I can face. But it does not help much when I try to pick back up the cleaning. I finally abandon the mission and wait for Peeta moodily on the couch fiddling with a bow.

It is not long before he is back carrying various sacks and packages. He puts everything but one small box away. He approaches me slowly like I am a dangerous, fatally wounded animal who might bite him. "Uh, Katniss, I want you to try something for me."

"Yeah yeah, sure sure," I reply blandly while looking at my bow.

He begins to open the package. "Ok, so I don't want to jump to anything here, but I thought it might ease your mind to have an answer so I bought you this." He hands over this stick like object to me. I stare at it blankly for only a second before understanding dawns on me.

"Oh, um, you still think I might be pregnant?" Has the man not been listening to me? Really?

"Well, humor me. And think about it this way, you won't be waiting anymore, you'll know."

"I guess it can't hurt anything." Maybe Peeta needs to have a more definitive "no" than what my body is telling me.

Peeta follows me to the door as I pee on the little stick. When I am done we both stare at it intently and I can't help but be amused. We are waiting for little lines to show up or not, completely absorbed. But I know what it is going to reveal.

After a very short amount of time a pattern of lines appear. I don't have a clue what it means since I did not actually read the directions. But Peeta's eyes are wide and he looks up at me. He looks amazed and he is smiling. What does _that_ mean?

"Um, Peeta? What does the test say?"

"It says you are pregnant." He is still looking at me like I just did something incredible, which I haven't. Wait, that can't be right.

"I can't be," I manage to get out.

"Yes you can Katniss. You are! Your symptoms fit. I read about it. You are tired, your breasts hurt, you had a weird pain in your abdomen. It wasn't cramps, it's the beginnings of our baby." His face is lighting up as he talks. "Luckily you aren't feeling sick. Hopefully you won't get that."

I suddenly remember how I haven't been hungry lately. It has not really been a lack of appetite but more of a a general queasiness. But I can't wrap my head around this.

Peeta has clearly embraced the idea though because I can see the excitement on his face. So much so, that he has clearly been holding back how important this is to him. His excitement makes me nervous. A lot could still go wrong.

Peeta grabs me up into his arms doing a little joyful dance. I try to fake my enthusiasm but I don't fool him for long.

"Katniss, don't freak out. It will be ok. I swear it will. I promise!"

"So much...could still happen. I...I don't know Peeta. I don't want to hope yet."

"Come on, don't rob yourself of this. You are pregnant. We are going to have a baby! We are going to be parents! Katniss, this is incredible! You are incredible!"

His enthusiasm is hard to resist. He absolutely believes everything will be ok. I want to hope and marvel with him. So I throw myself back into his arms and try my best to join in.

We decide to keep things to ourselves for a while longer but I need to make an appointment with the doctor. We have a doctor now in the district but in other larger districts, healers are still around for the less important things. I realize, however, that I want my mother. I want her to be a part of this and to follow my baby and deliver this child into the world. I don't think I can accept anyone else. But I haven't wanted anything from her since I was a young child. Peeta, of course, wants me to have whatever I desire. He encourages me to call my mom and let her in on our news. I am nervous. I don't like to feel any sort of need for people, especially someone who has failed me in the past. Peeta is the only person I trust enough to need so I am worried that she will disappoint me.

My worries are unfounded once I call her however. She is elated with our news. She promises to be out within a week for my first exam. I will follow with the doctor but she will be present for my actual delivery and some of the checkups. She is undeterred by the great distance between our districts. She rattles off a list of plants and dietary adjustments she wants me to make to my diet. That's the point I hand her off to Peeta. Fortunately he is very attentive writing everything down.

When she arrives in our district I realize how long it has been since I have seen her. Too long, how did we let the time go so far? I could likely leave my district to visit her now, but I never have. After my wedding I think sadly how she has been back only once. Was that me? Was that her? It was both of us. She looks so much older and I know I must look very different to her. But she hugs me like no time has passed and I promise my baby that I will try to change this. Our child deserves a grandparent in their life to spoil them.

She accompanies us to the doctor who treats her with a lot of respect. My mom has made a name for herself outside of the district despite her lack of proper credentials. It doesn't hurt that everyone from District Twelve still holds her in the highest regard from her days of keeping them all alive. She crams into the small exam room with the doctor, Peeta and me. The pregnancy is confirmed and I am given a due date sometime during the winter. It seems very far off as hot as it is right now. All seems well and the doctor reassures me once more that everything I am feeling is normal. As we leave I allow myself to accept that I am really pregnant, though it still feels more fantasy than fact.

It takes several months to go by before I feel any panic. I have been doing a good job of keeping my mind clear, but I have now begun to feel the stirrings of life inside of me. My Mom is back for my next checkup and she and Peeta sit discussing the baby and the pregnancy. Listening to them, fear begins to take hold of my thoughts. The life inside of me is feeling real in a way that it never has before. The flutterings inside me connect me to my baby in a new and very visceral way. Tomorrow I will even see the child for the first time at my ultrasound, a new to the district tool that the doctor uses to view the baby. I think of the children from my dreams. Then I think of the people who might still hate me, that might still hate Peeta. What would they do if they knew of this child? What kind of tortures could they put it through? I do not even realize that my breathing is hitched and fast until I feel Peeta moving beside me and my Mom looking at me with concern.

"Are you feeling ok?" Peeta asks in worried voice.

I can not seem to find my voice just yet to comfort him.

My Mom grabs my wrist assessing my pulse. She is still looking at me closely and giving me a sort of exam. Peeta relaxes me back along the couch. I can see that he is trying not to freak out. I want to let him know that the baby is fine but I can't catch my breath enough to get out the words. Besides, is our baby really fine? Now maybe, but what about once it is born? Will someone wrench it out of our arms to put it through God knows what? The ideas that I had blocked out for so long come rushing forward into my head as if bursting from a broken damn.

My Mom recognizes the signs of anxiety and it is her sharp voice that finally breaks through the images spinning in my head. "Katniss, you have to answer!"

"What?" I barely get out. I finally feel a little focus return.

"What do you feel?"

"Fear," I tell her honestly in a gasp.

"Do you feel any pain in your abdomen?" She asks.

"No, the only pain I feel is fear." I am finally gaining a little control of my breathing. I force myself to stay in the present. I know I should elaborate, Peeta must be beside himself. "The baby is fine. I just started to panic. I just started to worry and I couldn't stop myself. It went into a sort of spiral and I couldn't stop it,"

I can not see Peeta's face as he has pulled me against him and buried his face in my hair. I can feel him breathing and it is hitched and slightly raspy sounding. My mother, however, is in full control and completely in the role of a healer.

"Katniss, I want you to continue to focus on your breathing. Think of nothing else, clear your head. Breath in very slowly, hold it then breath back out slowly." I do what she says and am shortly back to normal. Well, as normal as I can be.

That night when Peeta and I are alone in our bed I realize that he has been uncharacteristically quiet. I grab him into my arms and squeeze him tight. He sighs and looks at me with eyes a thousand years old. "Sorry I scared you tonight," I mutter.

He eyes are sad as he tells me "I felt so helpless. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I failed you. What if your mother had not been there...if something had been going wrong..." Leave it to Peeta to feel like he failed me when I am the one not keeping it together. He presses on. "I guess I should have expected it. I know how scared you were for so long and realistically it isn't as if you can just turn that off. But I promise I won't let anyone hurt our baby."

"I know, Peeta, I know. It was just a weak moment."

After the silence stretches out he breaks it. "Are you up to this Katniss? Did we make a mistake? Did I...force you..."

I cut him off before he can finish "No, this child is not a mistake, and you did not force me to do anything. I can feel him. Or her. It just felt all so real for the first time and I had a lapse. I am strong enough to do this Peeta. Believe in _me_ now. I might be anxious from time to time but I can do this! I can do this with you."

"You are strong. I do believe in you." I feel his lips press into my hair. "Well, at least I know what to do if you ever feel anxious again. I think I'll get your Mom to train me in all the basic stuff before she goes home so that I am positive that I can help with anything that comes up."

I place a finger on his lips. "Shhh Peeta, think of happy things right now. Hey, it can't be too much longer before you will be able to feel our baby move too. I can't wait to share that with you. It is a marvelous thing and I know that you will love it."

I think I have succeeded in redirecting him because he says "and tomorrow we might find out if it is a boy or girl. I hope, whatever it is, that it stops the mockingjays with its song just like you do." We fall asleep together dreaming of our child.

**It was a shorter chapter than the ones previous, but it sets up the next chapter that I will have posted soon. I would love to hear your comments and reactions. Just hit that comment button and leave a review. =)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, I decided not to wait to post this chapter as it is done. Pauline, as always, read and checked over it for me as well as my husband. Thanks to you both! This chapter is really where I have been headed all along with this story. I hope that you have enjoyed the journey as well as this (likely) last chapter. If you have enjoyed it, read the my message at the end of the story because I am taking it in new direction and would love to have you along as a reader! The characters all belong to Suzanne Collins as does the series the characters come from. I am just glad that she shared them with us.**

Concern etches Peeta's features as he watches the TV and calls my mother. Before she picks up I try to tell him to relax. I don't think he hears me. The pregnancy is drawing to full term and the weather has been especially bad this winter. He is currently worrying over wether my mother will be able to arrive on time if the current line of storms continues to bear down on us. She had planned to arrive in just over a week, two weeks before the baby is officially due. We are carefully following the weather reports as they are updated. I hear him discuss with her wether she will be able to change her flight to beat the storm. She has a few things to tie up but apparently agrees to do her best to come early. I guess she has dealt with soon to be dads often enough to know how to handle them. It isn't as if the baby is showing possible signs of coming any time soon, but it is nice not to be the one worrying for once.

Every announcement this winter of bad weather and blizzards has pushed my poor husband to new manic heights. He has been overly vigilante about shoveling not only the walkways around our house but also starting on the paths into town, not stopping until he meets the large snow plows on the roads. He even tried to attack one drift that was almost over his head until I yelled at him that he was going to get himself buried. Since it is so rare for us to fight it shocked him into some sanity, however temporary.

Peeta seems slightly mollified with my mom's earlier flight but he is unable to be still and thus attacks the next project on his list. I have to admit, he has taken care of things that I had not remotely thought of. About a month ago Haymitch started a devious little game where he would come over for dinner and then subtly point out things that needed to be completed before our daughter arrived. I think he might have even fabricated a few of them. I stayed quiet the first couple of times thinking it was a harmless joke until I caught my husband staying up all night to paint our baby's room. I felt so bad that I promised myself that I would try to go easy on Peeta and make Haymitch behave.

I grow bored watching him baby proof cabinets. I make my way into the kitchen feeling a craving for cheese buns. I am digging around trying to decide what else I want when I turn around and run straight into Peeta. He catches me with his hands. "What can I get you?" He asks me.

"I can get myself something to eat, really!" I reply sharply. Immediately I feel bad about being cranky with him so I find something I can ask of him. "Well, what you can do for me is keep me company while I eat. And for heavens sake, eat something yourself! I thought that it was supposed to be your duty to gain weight with me, not get so skinny." I look closely at him and am mildly alarmed at his thinness. I guess all his frenzied activity and hard labor has coincided with his not taking enough time to eat. And now he looks stretched a tad too thin. Good thing he has always been very strong or I would wonder how he would have the strength left to keep up with all the heavy shoveling of snow still heading our way.

After we are seated and eating I tell him, "you really need to take better care of yourself Peeta. You are doing a great job taking care of us, but just as importantly you need to slow down and keep yourself healthy. You aren't going to do me any favors if you keep running yourself down."

"Don't you worry about me Kat, I'll be fine. How are you feeling?"

"Huge, and yucky!"

"No, I think you're beautiful," he tells me as he reaches out a hand to stroke my face. His eyes take on a slightly starry look. "I love the way your body looks with our baby tucked inside of it. And, your face simply glows."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "And I think you are a little insane but I'll take it anyway."

We bundle ourselves in the warmest clothes we can and head out into the cold. This is the last doctor's appointment. Once my mother arrives she'll take over and delivery our daughter at our home. It will be a welcome relief not to have to go out in this mess, especially since the walkways are icy and it is hard enough to walk as it is. Fortunately Peeta keeps me from falling and busting my head open as we carefully make our way to the place.

I happily dart into the waiting area and try to defrost. Before long we are in to be seen. Everything looks good, my cervix has just started to soften and is mildly dilated which we are told is on track. The baby has finally dropped. It certainly explains why it is a little easier to breathe, but I can tell hearing all of this is making Peeta even more nervous with my Mom still on the other side of the country. Our baby is just past 37 weeks and seems to be thriving from her estimated size. I secretly hope that she isn't going to get too big as I wonder how I am going to manage pushing her out. But at least she seems to be healthy which fills me with a deep satisfaction that my body has kept her safe for these past nine months. Now my worry focuses into keeping her safe once she actually arrives. My nightmares have begin to pick up again, but not the ones of long ago. Those have been replaced by new horrors related to the child I carry inside.

On the walk home Peeta considers calling my mom again, but I remind him that she has already promised to come as soon as she can. She does not need to be anxious, too, since we have plenty to spare. He acknowledges my point but I know he will not relax until she arrives.

The next day my mother is rescheduled to fly in but she calls in the morning with the bad news that they have cancelled all flights to our area. A hovercraft went down during the previous night in a district further west so they are taking no chances. She promises to arrive as soon as they allow. I have to remind Peeta that it could take as long as a month before I go into labor and that surely sometime soon the roads will be passable enough to let her through. When we climb into bed that night I can tell that he won't be getting much sleep.

By the time I wake up the next morning the winds have begun to howl as they have picked up throughout the night. Our house shutters a little with the occasional hard gusts. Peeta continues to stoke the fires lit though the house, trying to keep us sufficiently warm. There is plenty of wood as he has chopped and stocked enough to probably last through the next several winters in his zealous quest of preparation. We get an unexpected visit from Haymitch. I am not quite sure what he is doing out and about this early and with the weather getting bad but I think he has come to check on us. Perhaps in his old age he is growing sentimental, or else he still sees it as his role to mentor us and keep us safe. He hangs around for a while, clearly on good behavior. We send him home finally before things get too much worse. The last thing we need is to be stuck inside with Haymitch for the next week if we are to get snowed in. As patient and good as Peeta usually is, I think right now he would actually be more likely to kill him than I would.

When we finally do go to bed there is no doubt that the storm has arrived in full. It is hard to shut out the noises and get to sleep. I attempt to turn to my husband for a little distraction but he has grown scared of making love to me in this last month. He is too nervous about bringing on an early delivery. I have to settle for him rubbing the aching muscles of my back and pelvis. It finally relaxes me enough to sleep.

In the morning we are thoroughly imprisoned in our house by the snow. There will be no leaving for possibly several days. I wonder if the imposed stillness will drive my husband over the edge but he seems to have developed a new sense of calm in the night. As he is more relaxed, I am now the one who is nervous staying true to our bizarre pattern. It is funny how Peeta and I have developed this during the pregnancy. It is as if one of us takes the gauntlet of worry for a while, and then when they tire, hands it off to the other. There is no conscious thought or signal, but it works out this way just the same. He has been the most tense one for a while and I in turn had relaxed. Now that he is calmer, I am uptight. Maybe I just hate the feeling of being trapped.

The day drags on while we find ways to occupy ourselves. Peeta picks up his sketchbook and wiles away the time mostly there. I pick up one thing after another, never really successfully settling in. I finally take a nap out of boredom. It turns out to be a mistake as a nightmare about our unborn child starts almost the moment I am asleep.

Close to dawn I am awakened by a tightness in my abdomen. I have been having occasional but increasingly frequent tensing there on and off for about the last few weeks. Both my mother and the doctor have reassured us that this is normal. The doctor even has a fancy name for it. My mother explains it as the uterus practicing for the real thing. But as long as it stays irregular and inconsistent then it is nothing to worry about. So I roll over and go back to sleep.

I am awakened in the morning again by a tightness. I wait for it to pass before I get up and head down the stairs. Peeta is at the ovens pulling out something smelling of cinnamon and fruit. It makes my mouth water so I sit down to wait for it to cool. I watch him finish until he sits with me and we eat. He points out that he is eating an extra muffin to show me that he is getting enough calories. I tell him it does not count if I can still match him in what I eat so he grabs another to pacify me. As I begin to rise from my chair I feel another tightening sensation but this one is a little stronger. It halts me somewhere between sitting and standing as I grip the side of the table. This causes Peeta to fly out of his own chair to my side supporting me with his hands. It lasts a little longer than any before as well. When it is over I decide to head for the couch.

"Was that a real contraction Katniss?" Peeta asks, anxiety seeping into his voice.

"I don't know, but I doubt it." No need to get too excited yet.

"Have you had anything before this one?"

"Well, not quite like that, but I guess a couple did wake me up this morning."

Peeta runs his hands through his hair, deep in thought. "Sit on the couch and we'll start keeping track of them," he tells me as he heads for the phone. "I am going to double check with your mother and make sure of what this might be."

Peeta's face pales slightly as he puts the phone to his ear. "No dial tone." His voice is now deadly calm but I can see the tightness in his eyes.

Throughout the day he stays near my side wherever I go. He times and assesses each contraction and there is no doubt that they are building in both intensity and frequency. He periodically rechecks for a dial tone but with no success. We are completely cut off from the outside and can not even receive anything on our TV. Eventually I feel a gush of warm liquid spill from between my legs as my water breaks. This is about the time that Peeta really begins to get upset.

I watch him as he cleans me with some towels and I am filled with the strangest sense of peace. Everything that he has been to me in my life becomes clear in a sudden moment of clarity. My memory opens up a vault to our past. When I thought I was going to fail my family, had given up and accepted death, it was Peeta who brought us all life with his bread. Then by simply seeing him the next day I was given a solution to taking care of them. During the first games it was Peeta who dedicated his life to saving mine. I have no doubt that his efforts are a big part of why I am here today. Even after we returned home and I held him at bay, he never stopped looking out for me and was always there for me, if only in the background. His determination to take care of me never wavered through the second games either. Except for, really, the briefest of times and due to something out of his control, nearly his whole life has been about taking care of me. And he has always done it extremely well. "Always" I remember. I am filled with a complete confidence that I am in no better hands right now than his. I have supreme faith in his ability to get both me and our daughter though this. Peeta would lay down his life for either of us and with these thoughts I finally take comfort in her future. He will always take care of us both and I can depend on that.

"Peeta!" I grab his hand and pull him from his frantic pacing down to my side. I look deep into those blue eyes, far into their depths. I think I might even see all the way to his soul. I grab his face between my hands and tell him softly but firmly, "you can do this. You can handle this, I believe in you!"

As he looks into my eyes I see the shift in his features. He goes from distressed to determined. I continue on, "you will take good care of me and bring our baby safely into this world. I believe in you." With that, Peeta is a new man, no longer frightened but calm with intensity. He focuses on remembering everything he might need and sets about preparing.

By that night I am in full labor. I practice the relaxation and breathing techniques during each contraction that my mom had taught me. I remember Peeta and I trying not to laugh when we would practice them, but it does not seem very funny to either of us at the present. He helps me as best he can, whispering soothingly into my ear, counting with me and reminding me what to do next. I squeeze his hands as each contraction peaks. I try to focus through the pain sucking on the ice chips he puts in my mouth.

The night nearly passes before a new sensation develops. I need to push, have to push really. It is overwhelming and I can not resist it. I tell Peeta what I am about to do. He positions himself and catches our baby girl when she finally enters the world. We both breathe easier when she gives a strong hard cry nearly the moment her head is out. Peeta takes the time to clean her face with a cloth, wiping his finger down and across the back of her mouth clearing any stray secretions. Then I push my daughter fully into this world. My husband places her on my stomach, then he secures the cord with binding tying it tight in two places. He takes the sharp scissors he has sterilized and cuts through and finishes by cleaning with antiseptic. He expertly cleans her with some more towels then he wraps the baby in blankets heated near the fire. He resumes the duty of delivering what is left while I stay absorbed in my daughter as I hold her in my arms.

Her wet dark hair is plastered against her head. She calms in my arms and almost seems to be looking at my face though I don't know what she can really see yet. Her eyes are blue, but perhaps those will change in time. I hope that she will keep Peeta's blue eyes, the eyes that I looked into so deeply tonight and found everything in them that I will ever need. I coo to her and babble words hardly catching what I am saying since I am lost in my happiness.

Before long Peeta is lying next to me on the bed with his arms wrapped around us both. I look up at him and he has tears in his eyes as he looks at our baby girl in my arms. They are the tears of joy and of triumph. In this child our love is immortalized forever. I am glad that my mother was stuck and that everything happened the way that it did. Peeta and I were reminded of what we can do together. Besides, I know that my mother will be present and included when I deliver our next child that I am now determined will follow.

**I hope that you have enjoyed it! If would love to hear your comments or suggestions! I kind of think that I have taken this story as far as I can from Katniss' point of view. I won't officially close this story just yet, in case I find something else for her to say. But I do want to continue on. I am currently working on a continuation of this story from Katniss' daughter's point of view. Because of the change in point of view it will actually be put under a new story. But it has been very interesting to see this world from the daughter's eyes. I hope you will find it once I post. Thanks to everyone who has read this first story of mine. It has started a new hobby for me.**


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